Mind's Unmaking
by megaflash
Summary: The mind is such a fragile thing. It can bend and twist, but it will break eventually. Can the Wizarding World survive when its savior turns on them?
1. Chapter 1

Dudley had stopped screaming. He lay whimpering on the floor, slowly rocking on his back. Vernon Dursley sat in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Petunia was on the couch, all the muscles in her body rigid while her eyes darted around the room.

"There we go." Harry said, getting up from where he had been sitting next to Dudley. "I still need to work on my focus and control, but I am getting the hang of it."

Harry walked over to Petunia, and snapped his finger in front of her face. She zeroed in on him and began to shake as much as her stiff body could allow.

"You still with us?" asked Harry. "Good." Petunia's muscles all slacked at once and she flopped face first onto the couch. Her arms began to shake as her legs randomly kicked out behind her. Tears fell from her face as she was finally able to voice her fear and anger. Sobs wracked her body as she struggled to breathe, muscles contracting randomly.

"Why?" Several minutes had passed since she regained control of herself. Harry looked up from where he had been inspecting Vernon. Sweat soaked through the collar on Vernon's shirt and his fingers gripped the chair tightly.

"Aunt Petunia, you should know why." He ambled his way towards her, stepping over the still whimpering form of Dudley.

"I wanted to repay you for your kindness over the years. For all the meals you gave me, for the clothes on my back." Harry stood looking down at Petunia. She flinched away as he drew closer, but Harry grabbed her head with his left arm. Angling her face towards him, Harry stared into her eyes.

"I _especially_ wanted to repay the kindness of shoving me in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years." Blue lines of magic began to curl down his right arm. The magic skittered over his skin before wrapping around his hand. Petunia cried as the magic outlined the lines in the palm of his hand and each swirl on his fingers. Behind Harry, she could see Vernon start to shake and sweat. Blood was leaking from his tear ducts and down the sides of his face.

Harry followed her gaze and chuckled. "I wondered if that vein would ever pop. Merlin knows I've seen it enough times." His eyes turned back to her, a predatory grin settling on his face. The magic in his hands began to pour into her as he gripped her. The edges of her vision darkened as a heavy weight settled on her chest and limbs. As blackness consumed her sight, the last thing she saw were glowing green eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Don't bother getting up Vernon." Harry said as he cracked his back, looking around to observe his handiwork. The blood that had been slowly dripping from Vernon's face was cooling with his body. Petunia lay on the couch clutching at her chest, breathing rapidly. Her eyes darted wildly around, taking in nothing. Harry patted her shoulder, saying "It's all in your head."

Sounds of grunting caught his attention. Dudley was pulling himself towards to the door.

"You know Dudley," Harry said, "It would be easier to use your legs." Within Dudley's mind, something clicked. Dudley shakily stood up, and walked towards the door. The closer he got, the faster he moved. By the time he exited the house, he was jogging. As he turned the corner around the block, he was running. Harry knew that after a few minutes, Dudley would be at a full-on sprint. The compulsion he had shoved into his cousin's mind required him to be moving.

Wondering how long Dudley would be running, and deciding that 'til he died' was perfectly acceptable, Harry grabbed his trunk. He was glad he packed beforehand. He wanted to spend as little time as possible in Number 4 Privet Drive. Too many memories. Too few good ones.

Sun low in the sky, Harry strolled leisurely down the road with his trunk in hand. He was puzzling over where he should start looking Voldemort's followers when he heard his name being called. A short, squat man was jogging up to him. Harry recalled that this was Mundungus Fletcher. A member of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry didn't trust him.

"'Arry! What. . ." Dung stopped to catch his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees, ". . . Where are you headed 'Arry? You need to be at Privet Drive, where it's safe."

"I suppose it's safe now," said Harry, scratching his chin, "But I don't plan on sleeping near a corpse and a coma patient."

"What?" Mundungus asked, bewildered. Harry's hands shot out and grabbed Mundungus' head before Dung could react. Magic streaked down Harry's arms into Dung's head and Harry's eyes took on a green glow. Dung felt a presence surround him and the edges of his vision got dark. Around him, colors seemed to bleed out, becoming muted and subdued, except for Harry's eyes. The bright green light poured out and envelope Mundungus. He couldn't move as he felt Harry stroll through his mind.

"Oh Merlin," Dung ground out. As memories and thoughts flew around, Harry focused on places. Hogwarts, The Leaky Cauldron, Grimmauld place. Then Dung's personal bolt holes and storage spots. Memories of the things Mundungus had nicked flew past and Harry thought he recognized Kreacher losing his grip on a locket.

"Urgh." Dung groaned as he slumped to the ground, out of Harry's grip. Thinking straight was impossible. His mind felt like it had been split in half. Hands trembling, he drew his wand from his back pocket. It clattered on the pavement, away from his twitching hands.

Harry Potter observed him, sitting on top of his trunk and tapping it with his fingers.

Tap Tap Tap

Dung slowly crawled towards his wand, wincing in pain.

Tap Tap Tap

Something must have happened to the boy, he had to warn Dumbledore!

Tap Tap Tap

His scrabbling for his wand only pushed it farther away. Its slow rolling mocked him.

TAP TAP TAP

If he could just signal the Order.

TAP

Dung's fingers had just skimmed over his wand when a foot came down on his hand. The pain didn't even register as Harry loomed over Dung, a blank expression on his face.

"You're going to help me send a message."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore awoke to the sound of Fawkes screeching. As he gathered himself up from his chair, he tried to ascertain what had set Fawkes off. Looking around his office, Albus saw smoke coming from the top of his desk and one of his bookshelves. He dispelled the smoke with his wand, and looked for the fire.

"Fawkes, did your burning day come early?" He asked the phoenix that was sitting on a perch next to his desk. Fawkes replied with a negative trill, gesturing towards his collection of gadgets.

"Oh dear," Said Albus, sitting down and grabbing a gizmo that should be clicking quietly. He waved his wand over the silent cube that monitored the wards around Privet Drive. It was made of silver, with faint etchings of magical creatures on its sides. The cube's unresponsiveness to Albus' spell sent a shiver up his spine. There were no more wards around Number 4 Privet Drive. Any wizard could find it now.

Opening one of the many drawers in his desk, Albus pulled a chocolate frog card. Walking towards the shelf that had been smoking, he cast a spell at it while saying to the card, "Minerva, something has happened."

Minerva McGonagall's face swam into view, "Albus? What's wrong?"

"I fear something has happened to Harry," Albus said, a sense of unease growing as the spells confirmed that the monitoring device on the status of Harry's home came back blank. "Tell Moody to meet me at Privet Drive."

McGonagall nodded and her face faded into the background of the card. Albus spoke to the card again "Remus Lupin." The card grew smoky, and scratching was heard before Remus' face appeared.

"Harry is in trouble," Albus said, cutting off Remus. "Meet me in Little Winging, Surrey." Albus cut the connection and focused. Being the Headmaster did have its perks. With a crack, he disappeared from his office.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Albus sat at the end of the table in Grimmauld place, holding the small silver cube in his hands. The rest of the order was still getting over their shock at what was found at Number 4 Privet Drive. More unsettling though was the man lying in the medical ward at Hogwarts. Moody had discovered Mundungus Fletcher a short ways away from the house. Dung had been unresponsive, until he saw Dumbledore. He had lunged forward, grabbing Albus' robes. "All your fault, could have stopped this." Over and over Mundungus repeated this. Moody finally stunned him.

They were unable to detect or track who had done it. Magic hung thick in the house, specifically the living room, but no one had been able to identify it. Albus checked the records in the Ministry of Magic, but there had been no underage magic reportedly cast at Privet Drive. If anyone else had been there instead of Mundungus Fletcher, would the outcome had been different? Or would there still be someone in a hospital bed?

Dumbledore's musings were cut short as the last of the Order arrived. The Weasleys. Late as usual.

"As you may have heard," Albus said, standing and setting the now defunct device down. "Harry's home was attacked. The muggles he lived with were injured or killed, and Harry has not been found."

"Was it Death Eaters?" Remus asked, worry etched on his face. The loss of his friends weighed heavily on the werewolf's heart. He couldn't forgive himself if something happened to James son.

"Dunno," Moody ground out, "Not a signature we had on file." The grizzled aurors face betrayed nothing, both his eyes set on Dumbledore.

"There wasn't a Dark Mark." Sniffled Hermione. Tears still streaked down her face while Ron awkwardly held onto her.

"They would have let us know if it was Death Eaters." Ron said, wincing as Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Would have crowed it from the roofs."

Moody grunted in agreement. "Whoever they are," He said, "They are not a fan of muggles."

Remus looked sharply at Moody, asking, "What makes you say that?"

Moody's blue eye spun around the room, while his normal eye remained on Albus. "The muggles were tortured with what looked like the Unforgivables." He said.

"Were they?" Asked Hermione, looking up.

"Not quite." Said Albus, sitting down in his chair. He seemed to deflate into himself, looking less like a legendary wizard and more like the hundred plus years old he really was. "Magic hung in the air, almost tangible, but we could ascertain no spells were cast. Whatever happened, happened without a wand."

Silence greeted this statement.

 **Author's Notes:**

 **This has been floating around my head for awhile. 3 years almost. Decided to finally post it, see what the response is. It will get much darker, and I will be posting it on AO3 in case it gets taken down here.**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter sat on the edge of a dilapidated bed. The bolt hole used by Mundungus Fletcher stank of booze and mold. Light filtered in through dirt-caked windows and the only sound was the buzzing of flies.

Head in his hands, Harry attempted to quell the voices in his head. Focusing, he appeared in the flat expanse of his mindscape. The Dursley's screamed from the corner of his mind he had quarantined them in. Ignoring them, he concentrated on the mental representation of Mundungus 'Dung' Fletcher. The coward was hiding behind an antique chair.

"Since I have you here," Harry said quietly, striding forward and tossing the chair aside, "Let's talk about how quickly you looted _The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black_."

Dung fell flat when his cover vanished. He started scrambling away, blubbering.

"Just the little things," the man whimpered, "little bits no one would miss."

Harry's eyes narrowed and Dung was flung forward. Catching him by his throat, Harry squeezed. While Dung struggled for breath, Harry called forward the memory of Mundungus wrenching a locket out of Kreacher's hands.

"Where did you stash this?" Harry asked, loosening the pressure on Dung's throat.

"Was gonna sell it in Knockturn Alley, got it hidden there," Dung gasped out, weakly grasping at Harry's hands around his neck.

Harry understood this wasn't the real Mundungus Fletcher. His magic had copied the personality and some memories into his head, just like the Dursleys. He would deal with the real one later.

Harry tossed Dung away from him and summoned a cage around the foul thief with a thought.

"Stay," Harry instructed, turning towards the shrieks of the Dursleys. He began walking towards Number 10 Privet Drive. The screaming was starting to become a bit much.

/\/\/\/\

Lifting his head, Harry saw the blood on his hands. His nose was bleeding. Walking into the washroom, he caught sight of himself. His hair was unkempt, his skin pale, but his eyes shone bright with determination and a hint of madness.

Harry washed the blood from his face and ran a wet hand through his hair. He needed to get a move on. The Order of the Phoenix did not know where all of Mundungus' hiding spots were, but he couldn't stay here for too long. There was much to do, people to see and kill.

/\/\/\/\

Harry pulled his cloak tighter and checked his hood. His glamour charms were terrible, so he stuck with the classic dark cloak to hide his features. Other cloaked people hurried along through Knockturn Alley. Harry quietly slipped behind a larger person who smelled terrible. Shadowing the bulky figure, Harry made it through Knockturn Alley to Dung's stash.

Breaking from the foul-smelling individual, Harry leaned against the wall while tapping it with the tip of his wand. Several repetitions of the pattern later, a brick shimmered out of existence. Harry reached in and grabbed a bundle of cloth. Stowing it under his robe, Harry began heading towards the exit of Knockturn Alley.

"Oy," A low voice said behind him, "You been following me git?"

Harry turned and saw the large, smelly figure he had been shadowing early. From what he could see under the cloak, the person was probably half troll.

"No," Harry replied, slowly backing up, "Not at all."

"Liar," the troll man accused, advancing. "You wanted to turn me in to the Aurors."

Magic crackled down Harry's arms, lighting them blue under his cloak. With a shimmer, several copies scattered from behind him. Harry dashed past his accuser in the confusion.

/\/\/\/\

The fireplace at Malfoy Manor flared green as Draco stepping out, brushing floo powder and ash from his robes. It had only been a few weeks since Potter had taken his band of misfits to 'rescue' Sirius Black. The irony that Black wasn't there and yet still died brought a small smile to his face. Walking through the opulent foyer, his smile dropped as he remembered the shape his father had been in when he came home. He blamed the mudblood for that.

Still, he was now in line of succession for the Black family fortune. That should put him in better standing with the Dark Lord.

"Wrinkly" Draco called, pulling his bag off his shoulder and dropping it. The impact of it hitting the floor made him stop. Looking back, where there should have been an elf hauling his overnight bag to his room, were his effects sitting obstinately on the floor.

Draco furrowed his brow. Lucius had recovered and was out on the Dark Lord's personal request. The only people in the manor would be him, his mother, and the house elf they had replaced Dobby with.

"Wrinkly, come here." Draco said, raising his voice. Nothing happened. Annoyance tinged with curiosity filled him. Why wasn't the elf responding? Lucius barely acknowledged the creature's existence and wouldn't have called it away, which left only his mother, who should be around.

"Mother," called Draco as he walked towards the main sitting room, "Did you send away-"

Draco stopped as he took in the scene. His mother, sitting straight and rigid in her favorite reading chair. Potter stood behind her, his hands on her head and his arms glowing with blue magic.

"Hello Draco," said Potter, his voice low and even. Magic continued to flow down his arms into his hands. Narcissa Malfoy's fingers dug into her armrests, her eyes twitching but focused on something in the distance.

The absurdity of the situation and Potter's proximity to his mother quelled his first, second, and third reactions. Draco drew his wand and slowly entered the sitting room.

"Whatever you are doing Potter," Draco growled, "stop it now!"

Potter's eyes flicked towards him, and Narcissa gasped. "Now Draco," he said, "That isn't any way to treat a guest."

A snap sounded next to him and Draco was blown off his feet. He crashed into a wall and felt something in his right shoulder misalign. Through streaming eyes, he saw Dobby standing over him. The little shit had his wand.

"Thank you, Dobby," Potter said, still unmoving behind the chair. "Hold on to that for me."

Dobby looked at the wand dubiously but held onto it. Draco noticed that the creature was wearing some sort of dark black uniform, small pants and a shirt. No wonder Draco walked right past him.

Magic stopped running through Potter's hands. Narcissa Malfoy slumped forward, hair hanging in front of her face. Potter stretched his arms and popped his back.

"That took longer than expected." Potter remarked, walking towards Draco.

Draco glared at him, while Potter looked at him with a combination of pity and annoyance.

"Great Master Harry Potter Sir," Dobby piped up, bouncing up and down in panicked excitement, "Misters Malfoy is coming home!"

/\/\/\/\

Narcissa Malfoy tried to collect her thoughts. She hadn't even thought to lift her wand when Harry Potter strolled into the manor. Before she had realized it, he was rifling through her memories. Emotions and feelings she had buried long ago came to the forefront. Her distaste for Lucius and his actions. The activities her husband got up on raids for the Dark Lord. The anger that her firstborn wasn't her first child. She had been pregnant with a girl, but Lucius wanted a boy. Her fear that Draco was now set on the same path as his father and would suffer the same fate.

Narcissa blearily registered that Draco had entered. The emotional maelstrom pulsed through her and her magic demanded action. She had been wronged for years, and now was the time for retribution.

"Great Master Harry Potter Sir," the house elf squeaked. "Misters Malfoy is coming home!"

Narcissa focused on the door, waiting for the architect of her suffering to enter.

/\/\/\/\

Lucius Malfoy strode angrily through his front door. For the first time in over a decade, he had walked up to the manor like a guest. The floo hadn't been able to connect and no wretched house elf had answered his call. After the better part of a day securing his position in the ministry, the last thing he wanted to do was walk home like a muggle.

The entrance hall was empty of people. A bag lay by the fireplace, but Lucius ignored it. A light from the sitting room had caught his attention. He drew his wand when he saw the occupants of the room.

Harry Potter leaned next to Draco, who was sprawled against the wall. His wife sat in an armchair with her hair hiding her face.

"Potter," rumbled Lucius, turning to present less of a profile while aiming towards the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Lucius," Potter replied conversationally, "Feeling better already?"

Lucius' eyes darted around the room. Potter hadn't drawn his wand, but Draco was down, and his wife wasn't moving. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, but something was off.

"The Dark Lord has plans for you," Lucius said, bringing his wand up to cast. At the last second, he dodged to the side as a spell flew through where he had been.

Sidestepping a second spell, Lucius shielded a third spell that would have shredded his insides.

"Narcissa," Lucius addressed his wife, "what are-"

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black stepped forward, casting a sickly yellow spell that arced erratically.

"No more," she yelled, following up with a blasting curse at the ground in front of Lucius. He shielded from most of the shards but cuts still opened along his arm.

"No more groveling," Narcissa said, her voice growing in volume as she continued casting. Lucius ducked and dodged, weaving through the bone breakers, skin peelers, and cutting curses she was raining upon him.

"No more hiding!" she shouted, casting the Killing Curse. Lucius redirected it away from him, tearing chunks out of the ceiling.

"No. More. Pretending!" Narcissa roared, avoiding the falling masonry. She cast a blasting curse at the wall behind Lucius, sending shrapnel into his unprotected back.

Lucius fell to his knees and rolled to the side to avoid another blasting curse. It impacted next to him and sent him flying. He landed on his face, breaking his nose. His face throbbed while his back burned.

Through watering eyes, Lucius saw Potter reach a hand forward. Blue magic sparked along his arm.

"We need to have a talk," Potter said darkly, "about where you got a certain diary."

 **A/N**

 **Special thanks to 2D for helping to beta this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was impressed. Lucius's mind was covered in a haze of red pain, but his occlumency shields still held. Harry could only get muted emotions off the man. Pain, shock, anger, and fear leaked from behind the iron clad will that the blonde possessed. Harry gathered his magic and slammed it against Lucius's mental shields. They held, so he repeated the action.

Beneath Harry's glowing hand, Lucius screamed. The aches of his body were swept aside by the splitting pain in his head. His back arched and he gnashed his teeth.

"Dobby," Harry ordered, avoiding the man's thrashing. "Hold him still."

With a snap, the blonde froze. His muscles tense, his eyes focused on a point far away. Harry gathered his magic together again and thrust if forward, pinpointing a small spot that seemed weak. A groan escaped from Lucius as Harry continued to press his mental attack.

A rush of emotions slammed into him as he penetrated the man's mental landscape. Pushing past the sensations of pain and ignoring the anger, he began to search his memories. He combed for interactions with Voldemort, looking for information he could use. He flew past Lucius's first meeting with Voldemort, when he received the Dark Mark, to a raid that Lucius had taken part in.

 _"_ _While not as useful in combat," Voldemort said, wand pointed at a helpless man levitating in front of him, "it sends a strong message to any who oppose us."_

 _The Dark Lord jabbed his wand forward and the man screamed, the skin being stripped from him. It fell to the ground with soft, wet thuds. Voldemort weaved his arms through the air, conducting the man's symphony of pain._

Dropping out of the memory, Harry made a note to look for other dark spells that could give him an edge. Magic swirled along his right arm, slowly moving towards his hand. The blue glow illuminated eyes that had rolled back as he continued his plunder of Malfoy Senior's mind.

 _"_ _What separates us from the Mudbloods, Draco?"_

 _A young Draco looked up at his father, "Our blood?"_

 _Lucius smiled, "Not just that Draco. While our blood can be traced back centuries, it is our traditions that we uphold that truly divide us. The knowledge of previous generations grants us power. The Mudbloods look down on us because of this."_

 _Little Draco tilted his head, "Why?"_

 _"_ _They don't understand it," Lucius answered. "They think us backwards."_

Harry frowned as pulled himself from the memory. Checking Malfoy Senior, he poured more magic into the man to keep him conscious. Fainting would cut the connection and he didn't plan on returning to Malfoy Manor.

"Dobby, secure Junior," he said.

Ropes were conjured around Draco, who grunted as he was shifted about. Narcissa stared at Dobby from where she had stooped next to Draco.

"He never removed you from the wards, did he?" she asked.

"Dobby doesn't know," Dobby replied, glancing back at Harry.

"Stupid man," she muttered. "I won't let his foolishness kill my child again."

Harry dove back into the mind of Lucius. After several minutes of hunting, he found what he was looking for.

 _Malfoy entered a small study, and bowed, "My Lord."_

 _"_ _Lucius," The Dark Lord said, standing from his chair, "I have a task for you. One that will require more subtlety than normal."_

 _"_ _I can accomplish it, My Lord."_

 _Voldemort smirked and pulled a blank book from a small bookcase. Holding it out to Malfoy, he said, "That is why I chose you."_

/\/\/\/\

Severus Snape strode forward, cloak billowing behind him. He swept past the guard at the door and entered the room. Behind a desk sat Voldemort, reviewing plans for a raid. The fire lit behind him reflected off his pale skin, while hiding his features. Now that he was in the open, the war to conquer Magical Britain could begin in earnest.

Severus knelt when he reached the center of the room, "My lord."

Voldemort shuffled some parchment and made a note, "You have information for me, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord." Severus said, still kneeling. "Dumbledore has lost the Potter brat."

Voldemort looked up, red eyes almost glowing, "Explain."

"The boy's guardians are either dead or unresponsive. The boy's cousin was found five kilometers away, having collapsed from running. Potter was nowhere to be found."

Voldemort leaned back, bringing his hands together.

"The Order of the Phoenix guard stationed there was attacked as well." Severus said, ignoring the ache in his knee. "The Ministry of Magic thinks you have hired foreign wizards to kidnap Potter."

"And what does the Order think?" asked Voldemort, standing. He walked to a wall holding an almost complete map of the Ministry of Magic. Next to it was a list of options to capture Hogwarts.

Severus rose and followed next to him, "The Order have no idea what to think. The guard lapsed into a coma shortly after discovery."

Voldemort turned to face him. Severus resisted the urge to flinch as the Dark Lord stared into his eyes. Red eyes searched his face as he felt Voldemort brush over his mind.

Satisfied, the Dark Lord turned back to the map, "And what do you think happened, Severus?"

"I believe the boy has gone rogue," said Severus, still reinforcing his mental shields.

"Interesting. It took time to point the boy towards the Hall of Prophecy. Perhaps there were more severe side effects."

Voldemort returned to his desk, "Speaking of, fetch Lucius. He has to answer for his failure at the Ministry still."

Severus bowed, "Yes, my lord."

He fled from the room, ignoring the door guard. Deep in the barracks of the abandoned Irish castle he was in, he could hear Fenrir Greyback howling and pumping up his pack before a raid. He encountered Bellatrix Lestrange as he headed for the front entrance. She favored her left side, hiding the tremble in her limbs.

"What has you in such hurry, Snape?" She asked, glowering at him. "Forget to grade homework?"

"Direct orders from our lord," he answered, walking past her. "Lucius cannot hide in his home any longer."

Bellatrix flinched and clutched at her left arm. Her disapproving gaze followed him out the door.

/\/\/\/\

Harry straightened himself, stretching his arms and cracking his back. His hand had gone numb from all the magic he had been pushing through it.

"What is your plan now, Potter?" asked Narcissa. She had her wand pointed at the ground, while her open hand stayed on Draco.

"I need a better place to stay," Harry answered, taking in her defensive posture as he stood.

"And then?"

"Then I'm taking down Voldemort."

Narcissa glanced between him and Lucius, "What will happen to Draco?"

Harry moved closer to her, stopping next to Dobby. "Depends on what you can offer me."

"I know a safe place. A Black family property."

Harry tilted his head, "You want protection then?"

Draco mumbled something through his gag, and she squeezed his shoulder. "Draco too. I never took the Dark Lord's mark, but I can give you the information I have."

Harry folded his arms and put his fist underneath his chin. Narcissa saw a complicated blue pattern pulse along his arm.

He broke the silence after a minute passed, "How do we get there?"

She pulled out a small black pendant that hung around her neck, "This is an emergency portkey given to me when I took the Malfoy name. I started wearing it again after Sirius died."

"Why didn't you wear it before then?" asked Harry, the magic along his arm pulsing faster.

"The Head of the Family would know I used it. I couldn't take the risk that he would alert the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry nodded, "Let's go then."

Narcissa pocketed her wand, and held out her hand, keeping a firm grip on Draco. Harry accepted it, and the group disappeared.

Lucius Malfoy relaxed, and his arms flopped to the ground. Unseeing eyes stared out the hole in the ceiling.

 **A/N**

 **Thanks to 2D for helping to beta**

 **Posting updates for this story and others on my Minds blog**


	4. Chapter 4

Number 4 Privet Drive had remained empty and closed off since the shocking events several days ago. Police tape covered the front door and the windows were dark. The heavy silence that had settled in the neighborhood was interrupted by the _BANG_ of a purple double decker bus as it appeared out of thin air.

Hermione Granger stumbled off the Knight Bus, her hair a mess. Behind her, Ron Weasley's green face contrasted with his red hair. As soon as they had disembarked, the bus rocketed away with another _BANG_.

"We are learning to Apparate as soon as possible," Hermione muttered, running a hand through her tangled hair. Ron was doubled over behind her, taking slow and steady breaths.

Once sufficiently recovered, the pair checked to make sure they hadn't attracted any attention. Ahead of them, the darkness of the house contrasted with the rest of the street. They walked to the front door, attempting to look inconspicuous.

Hermione pulled out her wand but stopped when Ron grabbed her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm unlocking the door, Ron," she replied. "How else are we getting inside?"

With his free hand, Ron reached around the police tape and turned the door handle. It swung open silently, the midday sun spilling into the gloomy hallway.

"Moody mentioned the front door lock was broken," Ron said while Hermione put her wand away . They ducked into the house and closed the door. Hermione flipped the hallway switch to the 'on' position to give them better light.

"What are we looking for Ron?" Hermione asked, peering down the hallway to the living room. "What could we find that Moody, or even Dumbledore, missed?"

"The obvious," Ron stated as he strode forward. He stopped by a cupboard set into the staircase which was adorned with several bent deadbolts and a broken chain.

"Why would they put locks on a cupboard?" Hermione murmured, following behind Ron.

The cupboard door creaked open to reveal a tiny alcove. Inside lay a lumpy piece of plastic that could once been called a mattress. On top of a single stretched bare blanket lay a letter, the ink still as bright as the day it was penned.

 _Mr. H Potter_

 _The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

Hermione gasped. "He slept in this cupboard?"

"It's not fit for an animal, let alone a child," Ron said, standing back.

"Did you know about this?"

"Not really," Ron said, as he walked towards the kitchen. "I mean, he never talked about it. You know how Harry was. If it wasn't life threatening, it wasn't a big deal."

Hermione nodded while she inspected the cupboard more. She grabbed a small cord hanging down and pulled, clicking the light on. This revealed the walls and curved ceiling of the tiny room to be covered in carved lines. Four straight lines followed by a fifth slashed through the previous four.

"He was marking time…" Hermione whispered. She pushed the small door closed and hurried after Ron.

She found him standing in the living room, facing an armchair. The cushion was indented from years of a heavy weight sitting on it. Dark spots spattered the head rest.

"His uncle's body was found here," Ron stated.

Hermione glanced between the armchair and her friend. His face was blank, and his eyes were focused on something in the distance.

"When he did talk about the Dursleys, it was never good," Ron started, focusing on her. "They hated everything about him. I can't prove they hit him, but I know. I knew before I rescued him from the bedroom that had bars on its windows."

The duo moved back through the kitchen and past the cupboard, "I knew from the way he first acted when he came to Hogwarts. He was so excited to 'sleep in a real bed' and to 'eat more than once a day'."

They ascended the creaking stairs, Ron still talking, "I knew when I grabbed his shoulders to congratulate him on making the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He flinched away from me, like I was going to hit him."

Ron stopped by a door on the second floor. Hermione's eyes widened at the security affixed to the door. Four deadbolts, two chains, and a cat flap were installed on it. The cat flap had its own deadbolt to keep it in place. All the locks were broken, bent, or otherwise unusable.

Inside the room was a broken bed frame with a single mattress. Next to it was an old writing desk with a three-legged chair. Through the window, the remains of bars pointed angrily at the sun. Underneath the bed frame, a floorboard had been pried away to reveal an empty hiding spot.

"They truly hated him," Hermione said, slowly taking in the bare bedroom. "How did this happen? Why was he forced to stay with people who despised him?"

"Harry said he was dropped on his relatives' doorsteps after his parents died," Ron answered, leaning against the door frame. "No explanation, just a letter."

"Who?" Hermione demanded, spinning to face him. "Who was callous enough to abandon Harry to people like this?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

/\/\/\/\

\/\/\/\/

Harry hated almost all forms of magical transportation. Apparition, Portkeys, and Floo Travel left him dizzy and swaying. It took him a moment to gather his wits when the small group landed.

They had arrived in a cozy living room, between a couch and a small fireplace. An open kitchen connected to a hallway behind them. Narcissa began propping Draco up in a chair by the couch.

"Dobby," Harry said, standing. "Look around and make sure we are safe."

"Yes Sir Master Harry Sir," the excitable elf said before popping away.

Narcissa glanced at Harry, "You didn't need to hurt him."

Harry met her gaze, "He's a prick, he's an asshole, and most importantly, he's a Malfoy."

Draco realized that they were talking about him, and piped up. "Fuck you, Potter."

Harry chuckled, "You are already near the top of my shit list, Malfoy."

"Oh?" said Draco, "and who is above me?"

Harry's face hardened. "Voldemort."

Before Draco could stick his foot in his mouth some more, Dobby popped back into existence next to Harry. "All clear, Master Harry, Sir."

Harry turned away from the two Malfoy's to explore the Black safe house. The hallway behind the kitchen was short, and ended in three doors. There was a bedroom on either side, and a bathroom in the middle. Small, functional, and a thousand times better than his previous sleeping arrangements.

Selecting the bedroom on the right, he flopped onto the bed. The day's events were catching up with him, and he was tired.

"Dobby, bring me my bag," Harry called out. A bag appeared on the table next to the bed. He got up and began to empty it. The school trunk had been slowing him down, so he ditched it for a bottomless bag Dobby had bought on his behalf. It was too soon to go back to Knockturn Alley.

He threw several pairs of robes and the simple cloak onto the ground for Dobby to wash. He put the Cloak of Invisibility on the bed, and carefully lay the mirror Sirius had given him next to it. Looking at the mirror brought too many emotions up, so he avoided dwelling on it. After tossing a couple school supplies, he found what he was looking for: _Mental Magicks and Mysteries_.

After Snape had stopped teaching him Occlumancy, Sirius had been furious. His godfather had sent the book to Harry and instructed him to read it. Harry had forgotten about it until he had been imprisoned with the Dursleys again.

Not allowed to practice magic or even leave his room, he had doven into the book. Voldemort would not trick him again, no one else would die because of his own failings.

The book was fascinating, and endlessly descriptive. The main method of practice that the book advocated for was for him to examine all his memories in sequence. Essentially, it said to mentally relive his life. The book had warned to take your time and have a trusted confidant experience it with you or be nearby. Harry ignored this warning and re-lived the entirety of his life in four days.

That had been a terrible idea for many reasons. Ten years of abuse, followed by five years of constant danger was very emotionally draining. Harry had woken up hungry, angry, and tired of being both.

Pulling his focus back to the book in his hands, he read a couple more paragraphs. His head kept tilting forward and after a couple of minutes, he put the book away. He needed sleep.

/\/\/\/\

\/\/\/\/

Albus Dumbledore hurried down the fourth floor corridor of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He brushed ash off his purple robes, the silver half moons on it twinkling. His business at the Ministry had taken longer than expected, especially since he had been putting it off as he tried to find Harry Potter. There was still no sign of the boy, but Albus remained hopeful.

Reaching a private room, he stepped inside. To his right lay the surviving Dursleys and on his left was Mundungus Fletcher. None of them reacted to his entry.

At the end of the room was a desk, where a Healer sat doing paperwork. The man rose as Dumbledore approached.

"Professor Dumbledore, thank you for coming," said Healer Strueth, offering a hand.

"My apologies for the lateness of my visit," replied Dumbledore, accepting the handshake. "Has there been any change to their condition?"

"I'm afraid not," said Healer Strueth, walking to the side. He picked up a clipboard hanging off of the bed of Mundungus Fletcher. "There has been no change since they were brought in."

Dumbledore stroked his white beard. "What is your professional opinion?"

Healer Strueth checked papers on the clipboard and then put it back. "Honestly, Professor, I don't know. You said Fletcher spoke to you?"

Dumbledore nodded, "He did - grabbed onto me while repeating the phrase 'All your fault, could have stopped this'."

"That's the part I have trouble believing," said Healer Strueth. He walked over to the Dursley's beds, Dumbledore trailing after him. "I've consulted with some colleagues. I didn't reveal any personal details, just the symptoms. They've all agreed that your patients suffered from a Dementor attack."

Dumbledore frowned, "Dementors don't force compulsions on the bodies they leave behind. The Dursley boy had run almost five kilometers before we found him. Are you able to confirm that they don't have a soul any longer?"

"Not at the moment," replied Healer Strueth, running a hand through his hair. "Spells dealing with the manipulation of the soul are heavily regulated by the Department of Mysteries. I will have to get in touch with someone there."

Healer Strueth returned to his desk to begin drafting the letter. Dumbledore watched the Dursleys in their beds. They didn't move.

 **A/N**

 **Follow me on the Minds website for updates to this and other stories. Special thanks to 2D for helping beta this chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

Harry woke up needing a shower; there was still dust and blood on his clothes from Malfoy Manor that he hadn't noticed last night.

Once he was refreshed and dressed, he took a small knife from his pocket. The handle was worn down and the blade smaller from years of use and sharpening. Choosing a wall he could see from the bed, he scratched a short line into it. After inspecting his handiwork, he headed to the kitchen in search of food. The bare cupboards mirrored the state of his stomach. Narcissa and Draco hadn't come out of the other bedroom yet.

"Dobby," Harry called out to the empty room.

The house elf popped into being beside him. "Yes Master Harry Sir?"

Harry rubbed his face. "Of course you're a morning person."

The elf stopped bouncing in place and tilted his head.

Harry waved his hand. "Never mind. Can you make me some breakfast, please?"

"Of course Master Harry Potter Sir! Dobby will make the best breakfast ever!"

"Only enough for ONE person, Dobby," Harry clarified.

Dobby sprung to work and returned with an omelette, pancakes, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and half a gallon of milk. Harry ate most of it, and told Dobby to make less next time.

Grabbing _Mental Magicks and Mysteries_ from his bedroom, he sat on the living room couch. He reviewed the chapter on meditation and decided to practice some more, starting by slowing his breathing. His body relaxed and his eyes drifted shut. He focused on counting his breaths, letting his mind empty. His heart rate slowed as he counted. As he reached a hundred, he imagined falling into the center of himself.

/\/\/\/\

Draco Malfoy peeked out from the bedroom doorway. His mother still slept, but he had heard Potter moving about downstairs. The hallway looked empty and he could no longer hear anything. Glancing back at his mother's sleeping form, he tried to wrap his head around what had happened. She had attacked his father and then made a deal with Potter. As soon as Potter had wandered off, he had started ranting at her. He had demanded she stun Potter and take them both to The Dark Lord.

Instead, she had silenced him and focused on healing his arm. When she finished, she took a seat across from him. Draco tried to speak several times, but the spell remained on him. Finally, she told him why she had attacked his father. The first child she had been pregnant with was a girl. Lucius wanted a son and had cast a spell to forcibly change the sex before birth. The child had been killed. It had taken over a year after that before she became pregnant with Draco.

Slowly, Draco crept into the hallway, wishing he had his wand. In the kitchen, he helped himself to the remains of breakfast. As he finished, he spotted Potter sitting on the couch. Looking around, he didn't see Dobby, but he doubted he would be able to hurt Potter or even get close.

Draco sat down, not looking at Potter. He waited for some indication that he had been noticed - a sarcastic remark or annoyed grunt. Nothing came.

He looked over at the boy who had destroyed his family, and again wished he had his wand. Potter was just sitting there, eyes closed and body relaxed.

A small pop heralded Dobby's arrival next to Draco. He glanced away from Potter's still form to look at the house elf.

"What is he doing?" He asked.

The elf gave him a sideways glance. Draco saw his wand held in Dobby's hands.

"He's alive, right?"

Dobby nodded, facing Potter, but still eyeing Draco. The house elf still wore dark clothes, but Draco could make out a small, silver _P_ embroidered above the left breast.

"Is it true?"

Dobby looked at him. "Is what true?"

Draco swallowed. "Did my mother have a child before me?"

Dobby nodded. "Bad master didn't want her. Demanded a boy as firstborn."

Draco leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Oh."

/\/\/\/\

According to the book, each person's mindscape is different. Harry's was a blank void, the ground only distinguishable from the sky by the fact it could be walked upon. Otherwise, it was an endless expanse of near-nothingness, illuminated by a red sun. Underneath the void lay his experiences. Every memory and emotion Harry had could be summoned back to the void, but here he was safe. The smooth vista was marred by a few things, however. A graffiti covered brick wall, Number 4 Privet Drive, and an ever-present red sun. In front of the sun drifted a memory cloud filled with the last couple days. It would remain floating there until he dealt with it.

The short, squat figure of Mundungus Fletcher pressed himself against the graffitied brick. Harry waved and the man dove behind the wall. Looking towards the mental representation of Privet Drive, Harry reminisced.

The first time he had dropped into his own mindscape, it was a chaotic mess. Memories milled about, represented by thunderstorms and floating islands. Touching them allowed him to review the stored memories, along with their accompanying emotions, and banish them. It was an exhausting affair, but he had viewed them all. Something he discovered, however, was that time still carried on while in the mind.

When there was nothing left to review in his mindscape, he had woken up and found four days had passed. He didn't wish to repeat that experience. Now, whenever he imagined dropping into his mindscape, he made sure there was a watch on his wrist synced to time outside his head. He wasn't sure _how_ it was accurate, but it was always correct.

When he had killed the Dursleys, Number 4 Privet Drive had appeared in his mindscape. This occurrence was not covered in the book. When he had tried to banish the home, it stubbornly remained. It also held the family in all their multi-chinned glory. When he reviewed the memories, they stayed around. He had assumed that the collected memories of the Dursley's would fade in time. In case they didn't, he locked Privet Drive down with mentally-summoned chains.

The graffiti covered wall had appeared after Harry had dealt with Mundungus Fletcher. Like with the Dursleys, this mental form had all the memories of the actual man. When a quick review of the thief's life hadn't removed the person from his mindscape, he had become angry. Finding his wand in his pocket, he cast every spell he knew at the wizard. It hadn't worked.

Harry floated upwards to the cloud. It contained his experiences from the last couple days. He visualized it shrinking and collecting into his palm. The memories condensed into a small orb in his hand. He gripped it and squeezed.

/\/\/\/\

Severus appeared at the front gate of the castle that The Dark Lord currently inhabited. He cast a levitation charm and began to hurriedly move inside, followed closely by the floating body of Lucius Malfoy.

Bellatrix appeared in front of him. The scathing remark on her tongue died when she caught sight of Lucius.

"Alert the Dark Lord," he said, pushing past her. "There was an attack on Malfoy Manor."

She sped off, throwing a glance back at him. He ignored her as he headed towards the small medical wing that had been established there. A brewing room with potions stocked was next door. When he wasn't required for anything, he enjoyed stirring potions in peace there.

Inside the medical quarters, he put Lucius down on a bed and began to cast diagnostic charms. Bellatrix's heavy breathing and the swish of cloth heralded the Dark Lord's arrival. He finished the basic diagnostics and administered several potions.

"I found him unconscious," Severus started, checking for signs that the potions were working. "There were signs of battle, and small chunks of the Manor have been destroyed."

"How long until he wakes?"

"He is awake."

"Explain," The Dark Lord demanded.

"His injuries are fixable, but I believe he is comatose. Since I found him, he has not responded."

Voldemort frowned and gestured for Snape to stand aside. " _Legilimens_!"

Severus looked at Bellatrix while the Dark Lord worked. In the low light of the room, he could see her nervously scratching her arms.

Voldemort spun around, anger lining his face. "You are sure this is Lucius Malfoy?"

Snape bowed his head. "He wears the Malfoy family ring."

"Where are Draco and Narcissa?"

"They should have been at the house, but I could not find any trace of them."

Voldemort swept from the room, Bellatrix trailing behind him. "Bella, fetch me Rookwood."

Snape checked Lucius's eyes and heart beat. The potions had finished working, restoring Lord Malfoy's physical form. However, the man remained still, only his chest rising and falling.

Snape's eyes widened as he realized where he had seen these symptoms before.

 **A/N**

 **Thank you for your patience. Will try to update faster.**

 **Thanks to my Beta Reader 2D**


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